


730/postcards: two fragmentary passages

by pineovercoat



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Dreamsharing, M/M, wip wednesday but always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27948824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineovercoat/pseuds/pineovercoat
Summary: sorikuweek 2020: time capsule(unfinished scenes of old fic for which I declare WIP amnesty)
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I posted my first soriku fic like... two years ago! wah!! this was from the second one I ever wrote but never really finished called 'postcards from a shooting star'. there's about 60k of this particular fic sitting in a folder that's just been chilling there since october of 2018... I had huge ambitions of chaptered longfic full of dreamsharing! specifically dreamsharing but neither of them REALIZE it's dreamsharing! riku being an uninhibited romantic disaster bc of that! mutual pining mutual idiots! slowburn! plots and subplots! flirting over text! but was never quite able to get the puzzle pieces to stick together. Looking back at it now, the pre-KH3 is all over it (so at least I'm on theme, right?) 
> 
> I had a fun trip down memory lane plucking these two parts to drop off here today, and I tried not to really edit it so here it is mostly as it was two years ago, lol. I can definitely see ideas I recycled/refined later, and it was really cool to see where I found and ran with certain characterizations like my favorite riku which is vehement No Paopu riku... it was a lot like leafing through old sketchbook pages!!  
> I hope you all have a happy soriku week!

Sora drifted off, lulled by thoughts of warm arms around him, and found Riku waiting for him on the other side.

His dreams were getting way too good at indulging him, because before the world had even finished settling around them, Riku was already there, squeezing his nape as he greeted him with a kiss. It felt new every time, but well-worn, too- like a glove, like matched coffee cups on tables, breakfast cooking, sleepy shuffling. Like belonging. Sora reached up to give back as good as he got, heart full.

“Oh, wow,” he teased, blinking the daze away slowly as they broke apart. “What’s gotten into you?” 

Riku took Sora’s hand in his, brushing a kiss against each of his knuckles in turn. “I miss you,” he confessed. His eyes were barely open, the faintest hint of green peeking through his thick eyelashes, and the way he was whispering the words against his hand was almost like a another kiss. Sora’s breath caught. “We passed by our beach not too long ago. Being here without you this time… it’s a lot harder.”

Sora looked around, sussing out exactly where _here_ was. Behind Riku, the Realm of Darkness sprawled into eternity. _Well, they do say the last thing you think about before you fall asleep is the first thing you dream_ , Sora mused. The light was sickly and dim, but it haloed Riku’s head like the corona of an eclipse even as it wavered. 

The air within pushed out, a draft moving through an opened door. Sora could see strands of Riku’s hair blowing forward, as though whatever was inside wanted to push its way free with the wind. He felt it on his own face, too, at the same time that he felt the sun on his back. But it wasn’t the sun. Not exactly. There, over his own shoulder, was the realm of light. It was formless for the moment, but Sora recognized it anyway. He’d know it anywhere. He could blink and see this moment playing out behind his eyelids if he wanted; the darkness fading, and the ruins of the Destiny Islands reconverging in little pinpricks of light. 

Closing that door- the very frame they stood under now- was one of the worst moments of his life. It was horrible, not knowing what would happen, but it had to be done. For Kairi, for the islands, for the rest of the world and for all the worlds. Duty, sacrifice, and the light. He supposed it was a good, hard lesson. The fight certainly hadn’t gotten any kinder since. The promise of home, of rest, was still so far away. But the light- the light had always been kind to him in the end. Like this time, right now- this time was different. 

This time, here, in this dream- the door wouldn’t shut and abandon Riku to darkness all alone. This time, they fell to their knees on the threshold of the open door, facing each other, and there was just one word banging around in Sora’s head- _together, together, together._

He wrapped his arms around Riku’s shoulders and held him close. _Let me see him again_ , he wished. There was no way of knowing when their fight would end, or how, and though he couldn’t be sure if anyone was even listening- the door, the darkness, or the light buried deep within- he wished it anyway. _Please, on the other side of all of this, let me be with him_. _Together._

“I am with you,” he whispered, speaking that wish to the world, his voice growing louder as he spoke. He held their clasped hands to Riku’s chest, where his heart beat steady and strong.

Riku’s sigh ruffled his hair. “I know.” He pressed one kiss against Sora’s forehead, then another, aimless, like muscle memory, until they became their own refrain- _I know, I know, I know._

\--

“Hey, Sora. Time to get up.” 

“Five more minutes,” he groaned, rolling away from the sound.

Goofy shook his shoulder, and continued shaking him gently until he rose, yawning as widely as his arms stretched. He offered murmured apologies and cocoa, which Sora waved away with a smile and accepted in turn. 

Armed with the lightly steaming thermos and his blanket, he took up Goofy’s spot on the overlook outside of their camp. As he settled in for his watch, he couldn’t help feeling like there was something he was forgetting, but it wasn’t so insistent that he planned on worrying himself with it. He was content to remember the phantom feeling of lips on his forehead, as much of a comfort to him as the blanket draped around his shoulders. It was a calm morning with a cloudless sky, and if his attention wandered to the stars and his own thoughts a bit more than a sentry’s probably should, well… everything was fine, anyway.

The hours drifted by in silence until it was time for all of them to rise with the sun. Sora woke the others and went through his portion of chores quietly but cheerfully, dousing their fire and cleaning out their pots with a handful of tiny riverstones and summoned water. So they’d had no luck here, but there were other places to look. They were getting closer all the time. He could feel it. The confidence buoyed his steps.

As they boarded the ship, Sora dug his phone idly out of his pack to check for any new messages. He gasped loudly at what he saw, nearly dropping his phone in his excitement as he waved his arms and shouted, calling Donald and Goofy over to look.

He turned the screen to them so they could see Riku’s message too, and their faces lit up with the same excitement at what they saw.

To the point, it read: 

_-We’re coming home._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my buddy parkadescandal specifically suggested this scene have fun with shameless boyfriend clothes stealer sora the flirt

_-What do you say we try and catch dinner instead?_

\--

The tower _was_ situated on an island, Riku pointed out, and Sora felt sorely tempted to throw an elbow in his side for it. He hustled Sora down the stairs, out through the doors, past the ever-present feast, and onto the grounds, all with the flat of his palm steady on his upper back. Sora tried not to notice how large his hand was, planted where it was between his shoulder-blades, and how long it had been since Riku was close enough for Sora to take note of their distance.

He’d wrapped a few sandwiches and fruits in a cloth napkin for them to take along, and some sliced meats for bait too, stopping only to deposit them on a spot by the shore that looked like as good a place as any to try and fish. With only a word to Sora (“ _Wait_.”), he ducked back into the antechamber of the tower. Sora idled by the makeshift beach, feeling a little lost.

He found himself frowning down at the strange water, suspicious of the way it lapped at the earth without making a sound. Even the waves at the meridian had crashed, if in their own soft heartbreak way. Maybe it wasn’t water at all. He debated the dangers of dipping his toes in, or maybe his hand, but thought better of it- if only for the moment. Time was dragging and without Riku, so was his good sense.

“Hey,” he began, hesitant, but was rudely interrupted by Riku re-emerging from the tower only to throw something large and unwieldy right at his face. It connected before he could manage to dodge, smacking his arms with a hearty series of thumps, none of them quite hard enough to hurt. Sputtering, he shook the thing free, flung it to the ground, and glared up at Riku. “ _Hey_!” he cried, his outrage only half fake. He gestured down at the limp heap of netting at his feet. “What gives!”

“Catch,” Riku said. He had two fishing rods tucked into the curve of his elbow, and a small tackle box hooked around his other wrist. A wave of familiarity washed over Sora at the sight. He straightened, delighted, and bounded over to his side.

“When did you have time to go out and get all that?”

Riku shrugged. “Picked it up along the way. Let’s go.” He set off at a clip for the beach. “Don’t forget the net,” he added, tossing the words over his shoulder with a flick of his hair.

Sora made a face at his back but scooped it all the same, trailing him to the not-water’s edge. They settled into a spot on the bank. Riku took his shoes off, placing them neatly at his side, and put his feet in the water; Sora squinted, shrugged, and then shucked his own to follow suit, loose and relaxed at his side. Riku stripped off his gloves; Sora did, too. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Riku place the long braces and gloves behind him, next to his boots. Just like that, it was like they were back home, their school clothes rolled up to the ankles and elbows, just kids with the whole of the sky before them and food laid out between them to share, like that was all they ever needed. 

Riku used to share anything with him. Even when he pretended to make a competition of it. 

His gloves lay there, tempting.

Possessed by some spirit of a careless summer day, Sora set his fishing rod aside and dipped back to swipe them up. 

“Sora,” Riku griped. His free hand snapped out, but he was too slow. Sora grinned, dodging and weaving out of his grasp. 

“I just wanna try them on!”

“You’re gonna drop them in the water-”

“Am _not_!” Sora protested, and slid them on with a pointed tug. He stuck his arm out, admiring the feel of the black leather, how sharp they looked, how cool. If only they actually fit. He glanced over at Riku, who looked faintly amused but mostly irritated, which meant he really wasn’t annoyed at all. Sora grinned. If he prodded him enough, he’d probably toss his hair again. “Yeesh, Riku, are your hands really this big? You monster, give ‘em here, no way-” 

Riku rocked back fast, but Sora was faster. He made a grab for Riku’s left hand, turning it palm up so he could press his own hand, swimming in sturdy leather, flat to it. Thoughtful, he traced over the outline of his own fingers over Riku’s. They were shorter than Riku’s which were long and elegant, although they both had their share of hard-earned callouses now. 

“ _Wow_ …” he breathed, though he wasn’t sure what exactly he was marveling about. Maybe it was just seeing his hands at all. He’d always liked to wear gloves, Sora mused, even when he was younger- so much so that the sight of his bare skin was a little foreign, not to mention the feeling of it. He leaned over closer, tapping Riku’s fingertips lightly with his pointer finger. He had just the right sort of hands for music-

“Just ‘cause you have baby hands,” Riku chided, snatching his hand back. He curled it into a fist briefly at his side, then aimed a cuff that he definitely pulled at Sora’s shoulder. “Cut it out, you’re gonna scare away the fish.”

“Ow,” Sora whined, petulant for the fun of it.

Riku snorted. “You think that hurt?”

“Yeah?” Sora lifted his chin, defiant. “You gonna show me the darkness?”

Riku laughed outright, and Sora grinned at him, giddy, and not a little breathless. His skin pricked, and he leaned in closer to Riku, strangely magnetized. 

“Some other time,” Riku said, shaking his head fondly, a clear dismissal.

 _But_ , Sora noticed, with a smile curling over his lips- Riku had left him with his trophies. That was interesting. He rubbed his hands together, exhaled over them, then wiggled his fingers at Riku in challenge. “So.” Riku’s eyes narrowed, ready. “You want these back or can I...?”

Riku’s playful glare lost its edge, his eyes going soft at the corners. “You cold? 

“You’re _not_?”

“Nah. You can keep them.” His hands went to his lapels, pulling them away from his body, and Sora’s eyes widened. “Here.”

The air stilled as Riku leaned in to drape his jacket over Sora’s shoulders. His hands brushed over Sora’s neck as he straightened out the collar and hood, lifting Sora’s hair free of it, and Sora couldn’t help the bright, shaky shiver that ran down his spine. Riku hovered for a moment, his eyes tight, dark with something Sora didn’t recognize, and then he pulled the hood up and over Sora’s eyes.

“Dress better,” he said, dry, and slouched away again.

Sora groaned, pushing the hood just far enough off his face that he could see. “Or we could just go inside.” He pulled the zipper closed, drawing the still warm fabric up around his neck as he shrugged into Riku’s jacket fully. It really was nice, he thought. Warm and pleasant, like slipping back under the covers in the morning. “I really don’t think we’re gonna get anything to bite here.” 

“Maybe _you_ won’t.” The _who’s fault is that?_ went without saying. “Quitters never win.”

“Uh huh. Right. You got anything so far, _winner_?”

“No.” He lifted one shoulder. “Go fish.”

“Oh ha, ha.” 

They settled into silence after that, Sora kicking idly through the water at the land’s edge. Riku’s gloves kept slipping down the length of his forearms, but even so, they were just as much a comforting warmth as his jacket. He glanced over at Riku every so often, but had to look away before long. He turned his gaze to the water instead, watching without really seeing what was in front of him, instead idly slipping through patterns as the water swirled over his skin- like mist, like clouds, like a flag unfurling forever. Really, it was more like he was dipping his feet in a mirror image of the sky. Movement under the surface caught his eye, or rather, on it- a reflection. He looked up over their heads.

“ _Oh_ ,” Sora exclaimed, tracing the arc of light streaking across the night sky. “Look, Riku, a shooting star!”

”Huh.” 

Riku followed the line of his arm to the heavens, but they didn’t hold his attention long- Sora could tell it from the telltale prickle that only came from eyes on the side of your face. He turned to Riku, who looked deep in thought even as he looked at him, somehow simultaneously right in front of him and a million miles away. A little bitterly, Sora wished he’d settle on the former.

“Sora. You know I’ll always-” He stopped, clearly biting his tongue, and scrubbed a hand through his hair a little viciously as he heaved a sigh. 

“Riku?” Sora ventured.

“I’ve got your back,” Riku said, staring up at him from under his eyebrows, through his mussed hair. “You know that, right?”

Sora frowned, suddenly chilled. He shoved the bunching material of Riku’s gloves higher up onto his arms. “I do. I’ve got yours too. Riku, what-”

“All the things you’ve been through,” Riku interrupted, speaking slowly, like he was in a trance. He reached out to brush his fingers over Sora’s hairline, shifting the fishing rod into the crook of his elbow. The muscles of his bare arm flexed.

Sora held himself carefully, deliberately still.

Riku blanched, snatching his hand back to his side like he’d burned it. 

“I can’t let anything like that happen again,” he swore. His voice was quiet, but serious, carrying even as Riku turned his face to the sky. “I won’t.”

Sora’s cheeks burned. He cleared his throat. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he almost looked shy. But who just said things like that? Things like-

Sora shook his head.

“Riku,” he said, laughing, looking away too. “C’mon, why are you always treating me like-” He tapped his fist over the crown of his head with a click of his tongue, miming cracking an egg over his skull. He wriggled his fingers over his hair like yolk spilling, with nothing to hold it, memories lost to-

“Don’t,” Riku said, somehow managing to go even paler, even quieter. “Don’t joke about that.”

“Hey, okay, okay,” Sora said, waving his hands so widely he almost lost his fishing rod. Riku darted forward to snag it before it fell into the strange, starry waters, and Sora leaned back to make space for him. He paused, the oddest look fixed on his face, one that Sora could only describe as hurt, before going blank completely, and then he passed the fishing rod back to him without another word.

Sora took it, feeling off-balance. 

He hadn’t meant to upset him. 

Neither of them ever did, did they?

“I won’t,” he said, fervent. “I won’t anymore, Riku. I promise.”

Riku nodded, and they fell into a weighted silence, one Sora couldn’t make heads or tails of, hard as he tried. It stretched on, not uncomfortable exactly, but nagging, like there was something he’d forgotten in his quarters up in the tower or somewhere else along the way, and if he had it right now, then- well, who knew? He didn’t remember. But it itched, like a scab he knew he shouldn’t pick at, or maybe more like a current under his skin. 

“Hey,” he said, voice a little more unsteady than he would have liked. He bit his lip. “Are we… okay?”

“Of course we are,” Riku said, looking at him like he’d grown a second head. The _why wouldn’t we be?_ was unspoken, but Sora heard it all the same.

Good. Good. That was a relief. He bumped their shoulders: Riku was warm, somehow, even stripped, even in the cool night air. He nudged back, on cue, though it felt subdued somehow. He told himself not to look too much further into that. If Riku said they were okay, they were okay.

Sora traced the line of him in profile. Straight nose. Silver hair falling to kiss the cut of his jawline. Shoulders drawn tight. The lines of his white t-shirt draped soft and inviting over his frame. It felt more like a dream than all the rest.

He cleared his throat. He kicked his feet through the water again. He said:

“Hey, what do you think stars taste like, anyway?”

“Sora.” Riku shook his head. His hair shifted over his ears. “I have no idea.”

Sora flushed. He kicked a spray of water at his legs. “Dare you to drink it.”

“No.” Riku kicked right back. “You first.”

Sora laughed. Didn’t Riku know? He’d heard it all his life: _If Riku jumped off a bridge, would you?_

“I don’t think we should eat anything we catch,” Sora said, calming, though his chest was still tight and weird. Maybe it was something in the water, really. Maybe things would be better inside. Less- not cold, but whatever this was. “If we catch anything,” he amended.

Riku was quiet for a moment, and then he hummed his agreement. “Hm. Me either.”

“Then why drag me out here?” He meant to whine, but it came out as a whisper. It came out wanting.

“Because,” Riku said, simple as that. Sora half expected a lecture to follow, probably about keeping old skills sharp, but Riku surprised him further by simply saying: “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 

Sora stole another glance at him. He was smiling down at his hands, wrapped around the makeshift handle of his fishing rod, and at the glittering water swirling around his calves, soaking the rolled and cuffed material of his pants, too. His feet kicked idly through the waters in a rhythm to match Sora’s, almost childlike.

Suddenly the thought of inside, so appealing a mere five seconds ago, didn’t matter at all. 

Sora settled back comfortably, pressing his knee flush to Riku’s for a moment, and smiled too. “Yeah. Yeah, y’know, it really is.”

\--

Maybe it was a product of passing the rest of the evening side by side with Riku on the shores of the tower, wading into the waters with their pants rolled up around their knees with empty nets in hand and turning up nothing but stolen time, or maybe it was just pure exhaustion, but as soon as Sora’s head hit his pillow, his eyes slipped shut and he fell deeply asleep, called by the gentle roar of waters he knew.

Sunlight warmed his face. A breeze blew across his skin, carrying with the salt smell of the ocean and cooling the worst of the sun’s blaze. Behind him, he heard the swish of palm fronds swaying, rustling out a tune that sang a counterpoint to the lapping of the waves and the gulls’ cries.

The islands. Back again. Like an old favorite song- he could hum it if he tried. He put his hand behind his head and turned his face to the sun, taking in the peace and familiarity of it all. Minutes passed, or maybe hours, syrup-slow, but he wasn’t in any kind of hurry. 

Sand shifted underfoot somewhere behind him, and Sora rolled his head towards the sound, the tree bark whispering rough against his scalp. About time.

Cracking one eye open, he called, “Riku? That you?”

“It’s me.” 

A shadow fell over his line of sight as Riku planted a hand on the curved trunk of the paopu tree and vaulted, clearing it easily. He took up his usual place at his side, leaning against the trunk somewhere to Sora’s left. 

Sora rose to sit, nudging his shoulder with his knee. He nudged back, comfortable and familiar, and they both settled, eyes fixed on the horizon. Sora leaned back on his palms, breathing in ease and simplicity. For everything that was happening across the worlds, all the darkness and pain, it seemed like this beach would always be the same.

“Miss home yet?” he asked, staring out at the waters.

His words blew away in the wind; he couldn’t be sure that Riku heard him at first. He sucked on his teeth, waiting it out- it wasn’t something he actually expected an answer to, or even something he really felt all that inclined to repeat, but Riku straightened up after a moment, scuffing the toe of his boot over the packed sand.

“All the time,” he croaked, staring straight ahead as he rubbed his wrist delicately. He inclined his head, closing his eyes. “I think I miss the waves most. It’s funny. I always felt like they were calling me somewhere, and now that I’m _somewhere_ -” he waved a hand vaguely- “I guess I miss the sound.”

Was it funny? Or was it something else entirely? Sora hummed, planting his hands between his knees. He looked from Riku to the water again, tapping out an idle little heartbeat rhythm against the bark with his knuckles. Tap-tap, swish-swish- the rhythm of the world that raised them, through all the scraped knees and skinned palms and daydreaming.

Sora breathed out, and stretched a hand out towards the water, wriggling his fingers like the waves. He didn’t think he’d ever heard the waves’ call, exactly, not like Riku. But he could understand what he meant. Being some undefined somewhere. Missing where you were.

“I think…” Sora chewed over his thoughts. “I think I miss how _little_ things were. Doing absolutely nothing all day, but it meant everything. At least, to us. Y’know?”

Riku snorted. “I do.”

He leaned forward, peering intently at the line of the horizon, blue meeting blue, stretching on and on and on into forever. 

Maybe it was strange seeing _Riku_ here again, Sora decided, watching him carefully. He was different now, with both his shoulders and his disposition bent inward. He used to smile so much- haughty grins, most of the time, sure, but now he rationed even those like they’d get threadbare and worn and useless. 

Just another touchstone to hold against the unchanging islands, Sora thought, coasting his hand over the ocean breeze. 

He wouldn’t be the Riku he was ever again, but Sora figured that was fine. He missed that kid, the kid who’d figured out what no one else had, the kid who’d grown up inhaling the same air as the rest of them but somehow figured out how to exhale cool and confidence, the kid who’d been oh-so-worldly where the rest of them were childish, but it was in the same kind of way he missed home itself.

They hadn’t been back for long, last time, and he couldn’t help wondering- if he had stayed longer, would still feel like home, or would just be the place he grew up and grew past? The passing thought didn’t hurt him as much as it used to. Going back felt less urgent as the days went on, and the thought of things settling and going back to the way they were before, even less so. If he’d never left, what would he know? Who would he be? 

There was no telling, but it certainly wouldn’t be who he was now. 

So maybe home was ahead, he decided. Maybe home was around him all the time.

He pushed himself into standing. 

Riku looked at him sideways, curious, and Sora flapped a hand at him- _nothing, nothing._ He found his balance and walked, one foot in front of the other, arms out, crossing the trunk’s length to the point where it began to curve upward, sprouting into green foliage. With a hand flattened on the bark to steady himself, he plucked a single fruit free from its leaves, and, turning, lobbed it at Riku. 

“Catch!”

Bewildered, he did, looking at the paopu as though he’d never seen one before in his life. Sora laughed, hopping down lightly to take a place at Riku’s side. After a moment of silence, he poked at his ribs.

“So, whaddya say?”

Riku’s face shape-shifted, confusion melting into shock melting into something entirely unreadable. His thumbs pressed into two points of the star, smoothing over the soft flesh of the fruit. 

“I-”

Sora waited, patient.

“I’ve- ugh.” 

His frown was more evident in his forehead than on his lips- but Sora knew these sorts of things. He knew _him_ , after all, so he stepped closer, liberating the paopu from the danger of his grip. It kind of figured he’d destroy the thing before he had a chance to decide how he felt about it, but Sora kept that thought to himself. Balancing it in the crook of his elbow, he squeezed Riku’s wrist once with his free hand. 

“Hey. It’s fine.” 

Riku breathed in deep, taking strength from it, and plowed ahead. “I wanted to for the longest time. I thought before I opened the door that it would keep us together. You didn’t exactly take to it.”

“I was _fourteen_ ,” Sora interrupted, flushing with shame as he remembered how he’d tossed the paopu off the side of the bridge like he was allergic to it. Hindsight was always clearer, and turning it over in his palms now, he was heartsick at the thought of how casually he’d thrown Riku’s fears and insecurities with it. 

“I thought you were making fun of me,” he said. “For Kairi or whatever.” It wasn’t making excuses, not exactly, but he wanted Riku to understand it hadn’t come from a place of malice all the same.

“I was, a little bit,” Riku admitted softly, unable to tear his eyes from the fruit in Sora’s arms. His voice faded into a whisper as he spoke. “But mostly I wasn’t.”

Stupid kids, all of them. They still kind of were. But if he’d learned one thing, it was that it was never too late to start fixing things.

“So,” Sora prompted again, electrified by a sudden nervous energy. “What about now?”

Biting his lip, Riku reached forward and plucked it back from his hold. Silent, he took his knife from his pocket, and as Sora watched, flipped it open in a series of showy spins, walking the blade between his fingers until the cycle finished with the handle safely clenched in his fist. 

Nervous tick, Sora thought. That, or stalling. He ‘ _ahh_ ’-ed appreciatively anyway, and Riku started the process over again, never once nicking his fingers or losing control. 

“Cool trick,” Sora admired, pressing closer to watch. “Who taught you that one? Not Smee?”

“Hah, no.” Riku shrugged in a way that was way too casual to be anything but a deliberate swing at moving things along. He swiped at the air in front of him with his left hand as he spoke, as if he were literally trying to push the words into the wind and far away from them. “I made it up. I, uh. I had a lot of downtime back at Hollow Bastion.”

A loaded silence hung in the air in the wake of his words. Sora frowned, unsure of what to say. He watched him flick the knife open and closed for a few seconds longer, his discomfort stretching, and then the truth came rushing out to fill the silence, like it always did.

“I hate that you were so alone,” Sora said, feeling his throat go tight. “I’m sorry.”

Riku’s head snapped up. He stared at him incredulously. “Why should _you_ be sorry?” 

The words ran dry. He swallowed, licked his lips, and tried again. “If I knew…”

“You didn’t owe me anything,” Riku interrupted. “What I did back then… You still don’t, Sora.”

“Riku…”

“Can’t change the past,” he murmured, curling into himself. His voice sounded dark. Edged with regret. Sora figured that would never quite go away, which was hard to even think about, because Riku had been through so much, had been through enough, and suffering wasn’t all that noble or romantic in the end. It was just suffering.

He elbowed Riku, trying to pull him away from his dark thoughts. By force, if he had to. “Yeah, otherwise Xehanort would have figured out how to do it by now. Thrown all the worlds into darkness from the start.”

Riku tossed his head, snorting. “Right.”

“Seriously, Riku. You were hurting. It happened, but it’s over, and I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.” He coughed, shucking more paopu skin off to the side. “Anyway.” 

“Anyway,” Sora parroted, testing a smile. Riku returned it, soft, and looked back down at his own hands. There were two perfect little pieces in Riku’s palm. Sora brushed past them to snag the entire fruit, biting it from the exposed green center.

“Wha- hey!” He shook his hand in Sora’s direction, looking mournfully at his neat and careful slices. “Why’d I even waste my time doing this?”

“I dunno.” Sora took another bite. “Why are you wasting time now?”

He expected a slap on the back, knuckles to the crown of his head maybe, but he got silence instead, and wondered if he pushed it too far too fast again. One look at Riku’s face told him everything he needed to know.

“I used to wonder, too. Why you ever bothered wasting your time on me. Why you still do-” Sobered, Riku inspected the pieces in his palm. His eyebrows knit themselves together, his expression drawn, insular, an island unto itself. “I mean, you deserve so much better than having someone around who’d-”

“ _Deserve_!” Sora interrupted, aghast. “Riku, _what_ -” 

Riku turned from him, and Sora felt his bottom lip quiver. Why did he always insist on being his own worst enemy?

“You don’t owe me anything either,” Sora insisted, following him. He pulled on his shoulder, turning him back around with a yank. “Come on! You’re my _best friend_. Don’t think you have to spend the rest of your life with this thing over your head. I’m not the one holding it there. I won’t.”

Riku smiled at him feebly. “That’s the thing, Sora. You’re not the only one I hurt. I made a lot of mistakes.”

Sora held his ground. “I can’t tell you how to feel. All that other stuff, I can’t tell you what to do about it either. But I know _you_ , and I’ll know you’ll never stop trying, Riku.”

“Do you know me, though? Do you really? Because I don’t think I even know myself, sometimes.”

“Why do you always _do this_ ,” Sora moaned, halfway to yanking out his own hair in frustration. It was almost like he wanted oceans between them sometimes- but that couldn’t be right. Not after everything they’d been through. He reached out again to stop him, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. “You just… you have to listen to me, okay? I need you to know that what happened between you and me back then? It’s behind us. And for everything else, you don’t have to go it alone. I’m with you.”

Riku’s expression shuttered, closing off completely. He looked to where Sora held his forearm, then to his face, and then, tipping his hand, he scattered the pieces of the paopu fruit to the ground. Sora looked from the ground at their feet back up to his face, shocked.

He met eyes fierce with determination. 

“It’s only a legend,” said Riku.

“Riku…” 

Riku shook his head. “I’ve _never_ needed it to know that I’ll always be there for you.”

In disbelief, Sora put out his hand again, the offer of the paopu suspended in the space between them. Riku shook his head again, viciously, his hands clenching into fists at his side.

“Riku, come on, that’s only _half_ of it.” Sora shoved his shoulder with the heel of his free palm, careful of his fingers, still sticky with juice. His anger fought with his patience. “I’ll be there for you too. It’s a symbol- a promise!”

“A promise, huh?” Riku’s laugh sounded oddly bitter. He pushed the fruit back towards him, his expression whitewashed with peace. “No, Sora. Your life’s yours, and every day that you let me be a part of it is... that’s enough. I don’t need anything else.”

He could say the same; that Riku’s life was his own, too, and he didn’t need to spend it in service to the past, or to Sora himself. That that was the last thing Sora wanted, or even needed. His attention caught on something else, though, snagging on a thread that had followed them since the day their journey really began. Maybe even earlier.

“But you want it.” 

He searched Riku’s eyes. Sora knew he’d been sincere in his declaration, couldn’t help being touched by it, his own eyes hot and itchy because of it, but he knew Riku wasn’t being entirely honest with himself either, and he had to call him on it. 

Quietly, carefully, he let the other shoe drop. 

“You always have.”

Riku breathed out harshly and kicked at the sand. He scrubbed at his brow- quick, perfunctory motions using the back of his wrist. Hair spilled over his forehead, covering his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I mean. Yeah.” 

“Riku-”

“Yeah, ok. Before, maybe.” He kept his eyes to the ground, his voice small. “But not like this.

“It’s funny,” Riku went on. “Sometimes I... I don’t think I know who I am without my mistakes. Who I could have been, without what I did to the- to everyone-” He cut himself off, eyes fixed on the ground, every inch of him shaking with a barely contained energy.

Sora stepped forward.

“You know what?” he said, honest to a fault. “I don’t either.”

Riku stilled.

Sora pushed his luck, coming closer, until they were toe to toe. From there, it was easy to get past his hasty defenses and into his space. He looked up into his eyes. There they were, shining, full of misery and shame. Sora’s heart throbbed in his chest. He lifted himself, stepping up so he could stand on the toes of Riku’s boots. Bark caught his elbow as he moved, scraping hard enough to cut, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else could, because Riku was sucking in a stuttering breath, steadying him with a hand on his waist, and the pain faded just like that, as easily forgotten as the fruit he let fall from his own hands. There was something more important for them to hold, anyway.

“We’ll never know,” he said, fierce, “and that’s fine by me, because I like who’s in front of me.” He took Riku’s hands in his own, smoothing his thumbs over the scarred skin of his knuckles, and smiled. “And I like who I am when I’m with him.

“You, Riku,” he whispered. “That’s enough. Just the way you are.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe one day i'll come back to this but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
